


Nothing to keep me from the storm

by MFLuder



Series: Hurricane Drunk [3]
Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Jason Todd Angst, Jason Todd Has Feelings, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd is Robin, Light Angst, M/M, POV Jason Todd, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFLuder/pseuds/MFLuder
Summary: The eye of the storm.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Series: Hurricane Drunk [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1499297
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	Nothing to keep me from the storm

**Author's Note:**

> Jason is actually 17. In NJ (where we typically put Gotham), age of consent is 16, so take that as you will.

Jason wakes to near silence; strange, given he fell asleep to pounding rain. He blinks open his eyes to a room still mostly dark, only a sickly light caused by heavy gray clouds reflecting the city’s lights back. And there, on the horizon, a peek through the clouds shows dawn is approaching.

A warm hand traces down his stomach. He refuses to startle, though he’d forgotten he was sharing the bed. Or maybe, he simply hadn’t expected that person to still be there. 

Usually people don’t stay.

“We’re in the eye,” Dick mumbles quietly into the back of his neck. His voice almost echoes in the absence of the rain, the grandeur of the bedroom and its open space. His hand keeps up the soft petting, breath hot over Jason’s neck and shoulders. He presses a kiss into his shoulder and Jason closes his eyes, thinks he feels the flutter of Dick’s eyelashes across skin made sensitive. 

There’s a new itch under his skin – different from before – this one because Jason’s not used to being the little spoon, not used to _spooning_ generally, and it makes him anxious, almost claustrophobic, even as a part of him wants to luxuriate back into Dick’s embrace.

Dick’s nose and lips begin to make a pattern across his back and shoulders, reflective of the one his hand maintains on Jason’s belly. Both touches are light, easy, nearly _romantic_ in nature. The touch of someone who has all the time in the world, who wants his partner to feel good.

Jason isn’t used to that.

He lets it go on until he feels like he’s about to burst from his skin and then he flips over, grasping Dick’s chin tight in his hand, consuming Dick with his lips, heedless of any morning breath, his hips seeking out any body part to grind on. They find Dick’s thigh and with it, he can feel the other man’s growing erection. His hand trails from Dick’s chin down his ribs and to his hip, pressing them together forcefully.

Dick rears his head back. “Zero to sixty, huh?” he says, a little breathless, cocking his head just enough to look like his namesake.

“Live fast, die young,” Jason quips, curling his lips seductively, loading his words with every ounce of sex he can.

Dick looks at him and Jason knows he’s turning red under the intensity of it. “No dying, little wing.”

“It’s a joke, c’mon,” Jason says, flushing harder because Dick makes it sound like he wants him to stick around, in a way that Bruce never does when he says those words in response to a command.

“It’s never a joke in our line of work. It’s a death wish,” Dick responds, voice steel, but he lets himself be pulled back into another kiss by Jason’s hand, strong on the back of his neck.

Jason amps up the heat, making the kiss dirty. He uses his tongue in ways his johns and clients appreciated around their cocks, bites at Dick’s lips, keeps Dick’s tongue in his mouth, barely letting the other man up for air. He keeps his eyes open the whole time, watching Dick’s eyelashes flutter where they rest against his cheeks, brushes a piece of his bangs out of his face when it falls from behind his ear.

Eventually, he rolls them over, so that he’s resting on top and he reaches down, moving Dick’s legs enough so that he can get in between them, brush their clothed cocks against each other. When one of Jason’s hands drags its way down Dick’s long body and grabs an asscheek, Dick breaks away once more, heaving in great gulps of air.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, chest moving like he’s been in battle. 

Jason grinds his cock down a little harder.

“Jason,” Dick whines, opening his eyes and looking up at him. His eyes are dark, the blue appearing gray like the sky outside in the barely lit room. They swallow Jason down until he knows he’s lost.

Dick’s hands finally get in on the action, lifting from the bed to rest on his shoulders and then rub down Jason’s biceps, then over his chest, over his hips, Dick’s eyes following after. Dick bites his lip when Jason twists his hips against him once more, and his hands fly up to catch in Jason’s mess of curls.

“You like that?” Jason teases, grinding again and again, keeping his hand on Dick’s ass, pulling him off the bed, keeping them pressed tight together.

The way Dick’s cock twitches tells him yes before the man does.

“I think it’s my turn to ask; _you_ ever done this before, Dickie?” he questions smugly, letting his head fall to press kisses and licks onto Dick’s collarbones.

Dick shakes his head, his hair falling into his face. “Not…” he licks his lips, tries again. “I messed around when I was younger. Hand jobs, mostly.”

Jason smirks down at him. “You and that Hank guy?”

A shiver runs through Dick’s body and Jason isn’t sure if it’s from something he’s doing, or the mention of Hank’s name. “Never. No. It was…someone who’s gone.”

“Mmm,” Jason intones, letting his teeth worry a spot on Dick’s clavicle as his other hand slides down to join the first, then moving both up from Dick’s ass, pressing his thumbs into the indent of hip and pelvic bone, tilting the other man’s hips up and into Jason more. “I’d say it’s a shame, but...” he trails off deliberately, flashing a biting smirk.

“You’re a possessive bastard, aren’t you,” Dick says, the last word turning into a moan when Jason slides his thumbs into his boxers, presses into the vee where his cock begins.

Jason ignores it, ignores the connotation because yes, Jason is possessive, but he’s never had anything to be possessive _of_ , and he has to blink his eyes to avoid the water wanting to build up in them. Instead he just breathes, hot and heavy, and takes a chance, biting one of Dick’s brown nipples, sitting so innocently on his chest, begging to be touched.

That pulls a full groan from Dick and so Jason does it again, biting and licking them, using his teeth to scrap the small buds, even as his hands creep back around Dick’s sides, pressing into his ass, teasingly separating his cheeks until Dick is panting in his ear and his nails claw down Jason’s back.

“Yeah baby,” he finds himself whispering, the endearment falling from his lips in a way it never has; he _means_ it. “You feel so good.”

With short, frenzied work, Jason has both of their shorts off and this time Dick allows it, sliding his arms up and under the pillows on the bed, stretching himself out longer, playing up his attributes and Jason wonders if he’s doing it purposefully or not. His nipples are red instead of brown now, tiny little peaks that glisten with spit from Jason’s mouth. His body is hard with lean lines: a broad ribcage and defined pectorals dipping to a hollow just below. His abs are well-defined and lead down to his jutting cock, a bead of precome shimmering in the light silver aura coming in the windows.

“Jason,” Dick moans, quiet. “Touch me. Please.”

Who is Jason to refuse?

He leans back down, one hand resting under Dick’s back, in between his shoulder blades, the other taking them both in hand and beginning to stroke. Dick is never still beneath him as Jason learns what they feel like together, his hips moving, his legs shifting. Jason sucks in the scent of citrus and musk and sex and _Dick_ through his mouth as he pants and half kisses, half bites at Dick.

It goes on for seeming ages, a storm building between them, humidity making them both sweat. Jason leaks enough come to slick their way, and he keeps waiting for Dick to push him away, to say something about how gross it is, how he’s like a girl with how wet he is. Instead, every time more precome slides down his cock, Dick simply moans and tightens his thighs around Jason, thrusts up a little more, kisses him back a little harder.

It pushes Jason to a whole new level and soon enough, he’s rubbing his cock against Dick instead of just stroking and his body moves sharply, ends up slipping and he’s brushing his cock against Dick’s ass instead, intimating what he’d really like to do.

At first Dick doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, so Jason does it again. He’s not actually trying, would never take someone dry, but it puts a little thrill deep in his belly, looking down at their bodies, visualizing what the other man would look like pierced on his cock. How Dick’s thin body might take his fat cock. If he’d be able to see its outline once inside Dick.

He’s biting his lip so hard, it’s the taste of iron that breaks him from the spell, along with Dick’s hands shoving at him, not unkindly.

“Not yet. Not… _little wing_ ," he pleads. "You’re only, oh—” he cuts off when Jason adjusts himself, thrusts their cocks together once more.

Jason shifts and spits into his right hand, sliding it back in between their bodies so he can keep stroking them. He pushes his knees out a little, forcing Dick’s legs with them, until he can bend over Dick and reach his ear.

“I’m gonna be your first, Golden Boy. Just wait and see. You’ll let me in, you’ll beg me for it. I’ll make you feel so good, you’re gonna ask me for it. You’re gonna forget all about your girlfriends, you’re gonna be _mine_ , Dickie. Only mine.”

Dick is panting now, his head tossed back and Jason longs to bite and mark his throat, but he figures Daddy wouldn’t approve and he’s not going to get a lecture from Batman about touching his things. It’s not time for that fight. One day, maybe.

“Such an asshole,” Dick mutters, but it’s lost in the hitch of his breath as Jason twists his thumb, running it over the head of his cock, then under the head to toy with the nerves there. “Oh god, yes.”

He smirks, even as he feels himself approaching the edge, a tingle starting at the base of his spine, his legs beginning to shake. “You gonna come, Boy Wonder?” he asks, breathing harsher now, right into Dick’s ear. His throat feels dry while the rest of his body is damp from sweat and precome; his voice comes out as a rasp, sounds like he’s been getting throat-fucked and Christ does he want Dick to do that to him. To suck down that pretty cock, something he’s rarely actively wanted to do, but from Dick, he’d take the beating, take his come and revel in it.

Dick’s fingers dig into his biceps and he says, “Faster, Jason, need it…faster!” so Jason puts a burst of speed into his movements, grips them both tighter, rocks into it.

He surges up, capturing Dick’s mouth in an ugly kiss, more a mashing of lips than anything with finesse, but it’s warm and wet and tongue-filled and he crests, grunting his way through orgasm as his cock spasms, makes his grip more slippery and he loses it for a moment, hand sliding on Dick’s body, spreading come across his belly and chest.

The storm breaks between them, Jason’s hips still pumping, and Dick’s body goes taut under him, his back arching in such a way that it looks like he might snap in half, his face scrunched enough that it might be ugly if Jason hadn’t caused it, if it wasn’t matched with a deep guttural moan that goes high-pitched as come spurts from his cock, striping his own and Jason’s chest with hot, pearly strands.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” Jason breathes, so caught up in Dick’s orgasm, he lets his cock ride the line between Dick’s thigh and pelvis, teasing himself with oversensitivity. “Fuck you’re beautiful, Dickie.”

He forces himself to collapse not entirely on Dick’s body, instead slumping off to the side, their legs tangled. They lay there for a minute, both breathing hard. Finally, Jason hears what sounds like nails on glass, and when he looks out the window, he sees the rain has started again, this time accompanied with small hail that pings and would threaten glass weaker than that of Wayne Manor.

Jason continues to lay there on his stomach as he feels Dick get up off the bed. He lets his eyes glaze over, half expecting to hear the bedroom door open and shut, but instead, he listens to water running in the ensuite and then Dick comes back, smelling vaguely like the lavender soap Alfred keeps in all the guest baths.

“Turn over,” Dick murmurs. 

Jason does so with a heavy sigh and moves to take the cloth from Dick. It’s warm and he wipes down his stomach and crotch but also his pits and chest, wiping away the stench of sweat and sex from his body. It still clings in the room though, reminding him of what they’ve done.

Dick takes it back with a half-smile and disappears into the bathroom again. Once more, Jason expects to hear the bedroom door opening and for Dick to return to his own room, but instead, he feels the mattress shift and Dick manhandles him up the bed, Jason keeping his limbs loose so that he has to work for it.

“Such a cocky asshole,” Dick says, but there’s no heat to it and Jason smiles.

They rest there for a while, Dick’s head on Jason’s chest. He wonders what Dick is thinking. Jason keeps his hands to himself, arms raised above his head and resting on the pillows. He’s not good with this part; it’s as alien to him as waking up to someone cuddling him. Eventually, though, one of his arms starts to go numb, even as the wind picks up outside. He brings it down and wraps it around Dick’s back.

If anyone asked, he’d say it’s because the room’s temperature has dropped.

“We’re out of the eye,” Dick says, voice husky, sleepy. “The storm’s gonna get worse. The docks might flood.”

Jason hums in acknowledgement, too focused on the up and down of Dick’s golden back as he breathes. His arm looks foreign and yet right, resting on his body. 

_Mine_ , Jason thinks, even knowing nothing is his, that Dick is still firstly Batman’s, secondly the Titan’s. Or perhaps the other way around, depending on the day. But he’s had a taste and he knows now he can’t give it up, won’t give it up. He’s going to make the golden boy _his_. Jason will finally have something for himself.

He falls asleep like that, arm clutched possessively around the one thing he’s let himself want other than being Robin, listening to the sound of thunder crashing and watching flickers of lightening play behind his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a light-on-the-angst porny interlude here. Eventually, I'll get to the actual angst. It's canon now that Jason cries. *rubs hands together gleefully*
> 
> Follow and chat with me [on tumblr](http://mf-luder-xf.tumblr.com)!


End file.
